Jaime Lannister POV
He entered the room and was immediately overwhelmed by the heavy scent of incense and medicine.
All the windows and curtains in the room were closed, enveloping it in darkness to contain the powerful aroma of incense. Pycelle had explained it to him that the incense had medicinal properties but he wasn't sure if he believed old codger.
He had harboured a deep-seated mistrust towards the old man ever since his poisonous whispers had led to the sacking of the city at his father's behest, which had led to countless deaths.
The image of two red small bodies wrapped in Lannister red as well as the raped and torn corpse of Elia flashed in his mind once again, along with a familiar wave of remorse.
The guilt for failing them has subsided somewhat over the years. But he wasn't sure if it was a good thing or not.
Shaking his head, he directed his attention to the center of the room, where Cersei and Pycelle were currently tending to Joffrey.
Cersei's form was illuminated under the glow of the fireplace and the candles, and he felt the faint stirrings of lust rise up in his loins. But that feeling was quickly snuffed out once he noticed her disheveled hair as well as her red puffy eyes.
Approaching her, he observed that Joffrey was sound asleep. The boy's complexion appeared pallid, and his breathing was shallow and strained.
He was not a maester and had very little knowledge about diseases and medicines. But he knew a dying man when he saw one. And Joffrey was dying, there was no doubt about that in his mind.
Perhaps a week or two more. But then the boy would pass away and…
Attempting to introspect and gauge his emotions towards the situation, he realised that even with Joffrey teetering on the brink of death, he remained completely indifferent towards the boy.
He wondered what that said about himself.
While his father had always been strict and unyielding, there were still memories of moments when he had expressed affection and concern towards him. Was he a worse father than Tywin?
Rumours made him out to be a man who lacked even the most decent shred of honour. But he did lack the most decent shred of love as well?
How can a man look at the dying form of his own flesh and blood and feel absolutely nothing?
Contemplating the scenario, he pondered if he would react with the same indifference if something akin to Joffrey's condition befell Tommen and Myrcella. Despite not being particularly religious, the mere thought of such an event made him consider going to the Great Sept to beseech the gods for their well-being.
In fact, he would go so far as to visit Saint Stephen Baratheon (as the common folk had taken to calling him lately) and light a candle at his altar if the boy's supposed miraculous abilities could heal Tommen and Myrcella.
The death of Joffrey was acceptable to him. The boy was a vile and cruel monster that would make Aerys look like a joke if he ever ascended to the throne. But Myrcella and Tommen were sweet and innocent kids and didn't deserve such fate.
"How is he?" He asked the Grandmaester in a soft whisper as he took a seat beside Cersei. He might not care about the boy but he still needed to maintain appearances.
The Grandmaester shook his head and said softly. "I've… I've done all I could… *huff* in my power *huff* Ser Jaime. But… The Prince's health… is… is fragile. I… I'm afraid to say *huff* that the Prince… is not long *huff* for the world."
"What about Stephen Baratheon? Can the lad truly heal Joffrey?" He asked. Because despite hearing it from the mouth of numerous men who he knew were fiercely loyal to House Lannister, he still couldn't bring himself to believe in the boy's miraculous abilities.
The Grandmaester looked as if he'd eaten a sour lemon at that question and shook his head. "I… I would not know… *huff* Ser Jaime. I'm a maester. I believe… *huff* in medicines… not miracles."
'Or you're simply jealous that a little boy is able to do things that you, with your decades of experience, are not able to do.' He thought but kept a blank expression and nodded in dismissal.
The Grandmaester conducted a few more check ups on the dying boy before he departed, finally leaving him alone with Cersei.
He gazed at his sister, her disheveled hair, her crumpled clothes, her stooped shoulders, and her red puffy eyes that had not left Joffrey's form since he entered the room.
The majestic persona that usually cloaked his sister in every single move and gesture, was currently absent. But her beauty remained unmarred despite all that.
"Cersei." He called out to his sister but his words might as well have been empty air for all the attention she paid him.
"Cersei." He called out a bit more harshly this time, but still no response.
"I brought food for you." He told her and put the plate on the bed in front of her. His sister remained unresponsive, and he felt the urge to scratch his head in frustration. "Cersei, you have not eaten anything for days. Please, at least try to eat something."
As his sister continued to stare at Joffrey, completely ignoring him and he felt a growing sense of irritation within him. "Cersei, please think of Tommen and Myrcella. They need their mother now more than ever. You won't be able to help them if you waste away like this," he urged her, hoping to get through to her.
Cersei continued to ignore him and he felt the urge to punch something. Preferably Pycelle, if that old codger hadn't already vacated the room.
Why Cersei was so utterly fixated on that monster of a boy was never clear to him. Going as far as ignoring his cruel antics to outright taking his side when the boy bullied little Myrcella.
After attempting to get her attention a few more times, he resorted to shaking her hand violently. "Cersei, look at me," he said, but flinched when met with her empty, lifeless stare.
"What?" She asked in a voice that was barely audible and he felt as if someone had stabbed his heart with a needle.
Ever since he returned from the war, something seemed off about Cersei. He didn't know what exactly that something was, but he had noticed it for the first time when he hugged her as soon as he returned to the Red Keep, and her returned embrace was not even a tenth as passionate as his own.
He had noticed it when they finally got the chance to fuck, and Cersei treated that as more of a chore than something that she actually enjoyed.
He noticed it when she lost her temper over the smallest of things.
He noticed it when her smiles were not even half as vibrant.
He noticed it when she walked, and her gait not nearly as confident as before, despite how much she tried to make it seem that way.
Something has happened to his sister. And he was sure that whatever this something was, had nothing to do with Joffrey and his illness.
It was clear that something had happened to Cersei, as she had become a mere shadow of her former self. However, he couldn't quite put his finger on what that something was. And Cersei herself was too prideful to tell him and ask for his help.
"You need to eat." He told her.
"I don't have an appetite," she said, her voice slightly stronger than a few moments ago, but still hoarse and rough as if she hadn't spoken in days.
"Look… I know that you care about Joffrey. But you need to-"
"Care?" Cersei asked him, her eyes seething with anger. "Care?" She asked once again, and gave a hollow, bitter laugh. "He is my son Jaime! And he is dying." Her voice broke in the end and he hesitated for the briefest of moments before he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into a hug.
He was currently wearing his Kingsguard armour so the hug probably wasn't as comfortable for Cersei as he'd hoped for it to be. But it did its job nonetheless and Cersei broke down within seconds and started to sob.
He allowed her to weep on his shoulder for a while until she regained a semblance of control over her emotions. However, the fact that she didn't immediately return to her regal demeanour served as a stark reminder of how much she had deteriorated in the past few moons.
"Where is Stephen?" Cersei asked, and her question didn't surprise him as much as it had the first time.
Despite his own beliefs, Cersei firmly believed that the boy's blessings would cure Joffrey. As a result, she had been inquiring about Stephen's whereabouts every few hours.
"A raven came with a letter from Driftmark this morning." He told her "Prince Stephen's flagship was seen sailing in the Blackwater Bay by one of their merchant ships. If the weather remained favourable then he should arrive here within a day or two."
Some hope returned in Cersei's eyes and she gave a tired smile. "And where is Robert?"
He pursed his lips. "Robert has gone out to the Kingswood for a hunt."
Cersei's fists clenched upon hearing that before she sighed and gave a bitter laugh. "Of course he has. Why did I expect otherwise?" She shook her head and took his hand in her own, her grip too weak for his liking. "Jaime… I need you to do something for me."
"Anything, sister."
"I need you to go to the Kingswood, and bring my fat oaf of a husband back to the Red Keep."
He gave her a confused look. "Why?"
"Because otherwise, Stephen Baratheon might not heal my son. Or might outright harm him. I need Robert there to make certain that he won't pull any such tricks."
"Stephen? Why would he harm Joffrey?" He asked, feeling a bit confused.
Cersei gave a bitter chuckle upon hearing his question. "Oh, you fool. It is because he was the one who did this to Joffrey in the first place."
"He did this to Joffrey?" He asked and tired to keep the incredulousness from his voice. "Why would… are you sure about this?"
"Of course I'm sure." Cersei hissed, her nails digging into his hands. "He wants to kill Joffrey. My sweet, strong Joffrey. And once he does that, he only has to remove Tommen, and he'll have no one stopping him from taking the Iron Throne."
He was tempted to ask Cersei why she believed that Stephen would even consider such an action, or how he would go about causing Joffrey to fall ill. However, he knew that she was too stubborn to be swayed from her convictions about someone.
Hell, she hated Tyrion to this very day for the crime of 'murdering' their mother. If he couldn't even persuade her to change her mind about her own brother, he highly doubted that he could convince her to think differently about Stephen.
"Cersei. I'll be there when he blesses Joffrey." He assured her. "I'm make sure that he doesn't harm Joffrey or, pulls any such tricks."
"You don't understand!" Cersei hissed, raising her voice for the first time in weeks before she realised where she was and immediately quieted down. "He'll kill-" She paused and shook her head before giving him a desperate glance. "Jaime. Do this for me. Please."
And how could he say no to something like that.
"Alright, I'll do it. But only after you finish every single thing on this plate," he told her, his tone indicating that he wouldn't compromise on this. Cersei nodded in agreement.
Well… that's one problem tackled at least. And now he just has to go to the Kingswood and find one large boar hunting other smaller boars.
And once he returns with that boar, he would get to the bottom of why Cersei thought that way in regards to Stephen Baratheon.
—
Two days later.
He stood silently alongside Robert Baratheon, Jon Arryn, Stannis Baratheon, his sister, the Grand Maester, Ser Barristan Selmy, and even Lysa Arryn, all gathered on one side of the room and watched as Stephen Baratheon knelt beside Joffrey's bed.
Stephen (who really didn't look like someone who had just celebrated his 10th nameday) closed his eyes and bowed his head. He held onto Joffrey's limp hand and whispered prayers to the Seven gods of the Faith.
The boy recited prayers with such fluency that it would make a Septon green with envy. However, so far, Jaime had seen none of the miracles he had heard so often about.
He had heard stories of how Stephen had once sat beside a dying soldier whose guts were hanging out of his chainmail armour. After a muttered prayer, the soldier was as good as new.
The boy had been muttering prayers for the past half an hour but that miracle was nowhere to be seen today. No… wait!
Was it just him or was Joffrey's hoarse breathing much more clear now?
He scanned the room to gauge the reactions of the others. Stannis maintained his usual stoic expression, Jon wore an inscrutable look, and Robert appeared restless, as if he longed to leave the room and smash some dummies at a training yard. His sister's face was filled with desperate hope, while Lysa regarded Stephen with reverence and awe.
He'd heard that Stephen had blessed her son Robyn as well. And that her son hadn't had a single fit of seizure since that blessing. But he hadn't know that she held Stephen in such a high regard. Though knowing of her character, he wasn't really surprised.
"Why is this taking so long?" His sister suddenly asked, her voice a bare whisper even though she looked ready to run toward Stephen and pull by him by the collar to demand some answers.
Knowing her dislike of Stephen, and to make sure that she won't do anything foolish, he put a hand on her shoulder. Just as much a show of support as to keep her in place.
Cersei sniffled and grasped his hand, interlocking her fingers with his, but her gaze remained fixed on the two boys.
As minutes passed, he focused intently on Joffrey and observed all the gradual changes in the boy. He noticed how Joffrey's breathing became less laboured over time, how some colour returned to his face, and how his troubled expression transformed into a peaceful one as Stephen finally concluded his prayer.
Once his prayers were finished, the boy (young man?) opened his eyes and gazed up at them. He seemed tired but gave them a smile as he said. "It is done, your grace."
It was as if a dam had burst open, and relief flooded the expressions of everyone in the room. His sister shook off his arm and ran immediately toward her son, while Robert strode in as well.
Stephen stepped forward and positioned himself in front of his sister, preventing her from reaching Joffrey. Remembering her previous warnings about the boy, his hand immediately reached for the hilt of his sword before realised what he was doing and eased up a bit, trying to look nonchalant.
"What do you want?" His sister asked Stephen, her voice filled with venom and raw hatred. The tone in her voice brought back memories of when she used to speak about Tyrion after their mother's death. "Move aside and let me see my son!"
"You may see your son, your grace. But it would wise to avoid disturbing his sleep at the moment." Stephen said, his voice calm and respectful. "The Prince has been healed by the grace of the gods, but he still needs his rest. If you want to talk to him, then you may do so later. But for now, let him sleep."
His sister looked like she was ready to lash out at Stephen but it was Robert who came to the rescue this time.
"Ah! Put a lid on it Cersei. If the boy says to let our son sleep, then let him sleep!" Robert barked out before he took Cersei by the arms and started to drag her outside. "Come, leave this room for now. You can come back and spoil Joffrey with your mothering later."
His sister was rather vocal about her protest to stay with Joffrey but couldn't do much as Robert forcibly dragged her out and away from the room.
Once they had gone out of listening distance, an awkward silence descended upon the room.
"I think we should leave the room as well." Stephen suggested quietly, giving a meaningful glance toward the sleeping form of Joffrey and everyone quietly filtered out of the room one by one.
Once everyone was out, he closed the door behind him and stood on the side. Intent on guarding the room against anyone who wasn't his sister.
He still didn't care about Joffrey but Cersei would be wroth if she learned that he left the boy unattended.
And as soon as he took his position by the door… he was greeted with the hilarious sight of Stannis being hugged by his son.
The scene was quite comical, as Stannis appeared visibly awkward and uneasy about being embraced. He seemed unsure of what to do with his arms, pondering whether he should reciprocate the hug or remain motionless with his arms hanging by his sides.
It made him wonder if his own father would have a similar expression if he ever hugged the man.
"Is the boy dead yet?" A feminine voice from his left brought him out of his thoughts and he turned to his left to see a young woman in her teens gazing at him as she leaned against the wall.
She had short black hair and sharp features. And her attire of brown tunic, black breeches, and high leather boots was so alien to him that he couldn't help but stare at her for a moment.
"Are you done ogling?" The young woman asked and he frowned, wondering just who the hell she was.
Then he remembered her earlier question and pursed her lips. "If you're talking about Prince Joffrey, then better pray that your words do not reach the ears of my , your head may find itself impaled on the pikes outside the Red Keep before the day's end."
"Oh… I would love to see her try." The young woman said, her expression turning into a wicked smile as she took out a dirk from… somewhere and used it to clean her nails. "Tell me, who would she send to do her dirty task? The Red Cloaks, or you?"
"Does it matter? You would be dead regardless." He pointed out.
"Woud I?" She asked, her expression changing into something dark. "Would you like to try Kingslayer?"
Any amusement he was feeling at the young woman's audacious behaviour quickly dissipated upon hearing that nickname. "Careful now, girl. You should not go about making enemies that you cannot deal with."
"Aww… did I hurt your itty bitty pride… Kingslayer?"
Well… this young woman deserved some points for being bold if not smart.
"Does that sword of yours cut as deeply as your tongue, wench. Or do you only know how to spread your legs?" He asked.
The young woman gripped the hilt of her sword and flashed him a sinister grin. "Why don't we head to the yard and put it to the test? I've heard that you Lannisters are experts at killing women and children, so defeating me should be easy for you."
Okay… this was not fun anymore. In fact, he was feeling rather angry.
However, before he could retort, another young woman stepped forward and seized the breeches-clad girl roughly by the arms. "Asha, did you forget the warning Stephen gave us before we entered the Red Keep?" she scolded.
Asha, Asha, Asha… where had he heard that name.
And then it suddenly clicked in his mind.
The Greyjoy girl, who was supposed to be Lord Stannis' ward.
Of course. Only a Greyjoy would be dumb enough to insult a Lannister in the middle of the Red Keep.
Though it made him wonder who the other girl was. Her dark skin made it seem like she was from the Summer Islands. But her Common Tongue was fluent so she must be from Westeros.
Asha Greyjoy grimaced at the words of the other girl. "Sorry. It's just that… I saw a lion and I just felt this weird itch to skin it."
"Those are bold words from a girl who is presently a hostage and at the mercy of another House," he retorted with a scoff, before tilting his head curiously. "But I'm curious, what is your reason for harbouring such hatred towards the Lannisters?"
"Your father was the one who influenced the King into killing my father and brother, as well as devastate my home." The girl said and something dark flickered in her eyes once again. "Don't think that I'll ever forget that, Lannister."
He was prepared to respond, but the dark-skinned girl swiftly pulled the Greyjoy girl aside and then bowed to him. "My apologies, Ser Jaime. Asha can be quite... headstrong. She's young and still mourning her family. Please disregard the words she spoke in her grief,"
Asha looked rebellious at the dark skinned girl's words but then huffed and looked away.
"As long as she knows to mind her tongue in the future. Some people in this castle are not nearly as forgiving as me." He said as he turned around to ignore the girls and then flinched at the sight of someone standing only a few inches away from him.
He backed away and almost reached for his sword before he recognised this person. He calmed his beating heart and shot a glare at Stephen Baratheon. "Boy, did your father not teach you not to sneak up on people?"
The boy smiled at his words, as if he'd just made a rather hilarious joke. "Did your Kingsguard brothers not teach you to always remain vigilant to not let any assassin sneak up on you?"
"Considering that he killed his own King, I would say that he missed a fair few of those lessons." Asha Greyjoy said as she sauntered up to Stephen Baratheon and stood beside him. As if the boy would be able to protect her if he decided to kill her.
And judging by how much she was yapping in his presence, he just might.
Stephen turned to look at Asha and raised an eyebrow. "Have you been antagonising him in my absence, Asha?"
To his surprise, Asha suddenly looked rather hesitant at his inquiry, her confidence having fled into the wind. "Umm… a bit." She said softly.
The boy hummed at her words before he nodded to himself. "Very well then. Double study time for you till the next week."
"What?" The girl looked at Stephen in shock. "But Steph I-"
"If you're both quite done bickering in my presence, then leave." He said, interrupting the girl and both the boy and the girl turned to look at him once again.
The girl looked like she was about to tell him a few choice words but went silent when the boy walked toward him until they were face to face.
The boy shook his head and chuckled. "Look at us, bickering like children. I think I made a rather poor first impression on you, didn't I, Ser Jaime. How about we try this again. Properly." The boy smiled at him and extended hand. "I'm Stephen Baratheon. Son of Lord Stannis Baratheon. It is nice to meet you."
He stared at the boy for a moment before he took his hand and shook it. "I'm Jaime Lannister." He said, trying to crush the insolent boy's hand in his grip. "You're no doubt already heard of me."
The boy grimaced at his hand being crushed and he took a measure of satisfaction at that before he finally let go of his arm.
"You seem like you know a thing or two about wielding a sword. How about you meet me in the training yard, tomorrow morning?" He asked with a cocky smirk. "Bring that girl along with you as well, so that she may see how real men fight."
Ever since he heard rumours about the boy's actions in the war, he had desired to test Stephen. But after being disrespected by that Greyjoy bitch, it became a personal matter.
He won't go too hard on the boy. He did just save Joffrey's life after all. But teaching him a few lessons on respect won't hurt, right?
The boy cradled his arms with a painful look and gave him a slow, wary nod. "Yeah. I… I think I'm free tomorrow morning."
"Good. Then I'll see you there."
The boy nodded and cradling his arm, left the area. He and Asha was quickly joined by two other girls. One was the dark skinned girl from before, while the other was a blondie who wouldn't look out of place in Lannisport.
So the boy hadn't dropped his balls and he was already a womaniser? Yeah, he was really going to enjoy putting the boy in his place tomorrow morning.
Though, the way the girls were cheering and laughing as they left, made him feel ill at ease for some reason.
He wondered what that was about.